Just a Broken Heart
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Post Burn Out. Part of the First Kiss Series.


Just a Broken Heart

…

Post Burn Out. Part of the First Kiss Series

…

Nick Stokes rounded the corner, making his way down the main hallway of the lab, his attention caught by the familiar combination of punk rock rhythms and a somewhat metallic resonation of the mediocre boom box that used to make its home in the DNA lab. Closing the file he had been engrossed in, he came to a stop just short of the threshold to the garage, grinning as he recognized the pair of converses peeking out from beneath the undercarriage of the archaic Ford Bronco belonging to the victim in the case he was working.

The moon was approaching its fullest phase, and it seemed every criminalist on the graveyard shift was working two or three cases solo, and young Greg was no exception. Nick suspected that Grissom had forgotten that Greg was only a level one, weighing him down with a caseload as heavy and as intricate as the one he had bequeathed to Nick. Greg, though, was brilliant, and Nick knew he had been all too happy to bury himself in work, and forget about whatever was on his mind the last few weeks. He shook his head, smiling as the head-banging noise Greg called music came to an end, fading quickly as the song ended, starting to continue down the hall. The gentle guitar riffs and easy, slowed pace of the next song stopped him in his tracks, and Nick frowned, his worry over Greg's state of mind clearly evident across the features of his face.

**Back me down from backing up**

**Hold your breath now it's stacking up**

"Hey, picked up your print results from the Kinsella Case. Mandy said you-" Sara glanced at Nick, holding out a few papers, partly distracted by her own results.

Etched with marks, but I can deal And you're the problem and you can't feel 

"Thanks." Nick pulled his gaze away from the garage, turning his frown on Sara. "What's going on with Greg?"

"What d'you mean?" She stepped closer, peering into the garage.

"This is hardly the stuff he usually plays, is all." Nick turned away, his focus shifting to the results she had handed him, leaving Sara at the threshold of the garage, listening to Greg's music, suddenly understanding why he had steered clear of her for the last few weeks, tears welling in her eyes sharply.

**Try this on, straitjacket feeling**

**so maybe I won't be alone**

**Take back now, my life you're stealing**

He was nursing a broken heart.

She brushed them away quickly, hearing Grissom's footsteps behind her. Turning to offer him a tired smile as his fingers touched her side.

**Yesterday was hell**

**But today I'm fine without you**

"Hey."

"Hey. Tell him to kill the noise." Grissom nodded toward the garage, pulling away from her as quickly as he had appeared by her side. "He's not a lab tech anymore. Nor is he the best in his field. He can't be polluting the lab like that." He continued down the hall, turning the corner abruptly and disappearing from sight, on his way to a court date, robbing Sara of the chance to retort.

**Run away this time without you**

**And all I ever thought you'd be**

**That face is tearing holes in me again**

She stepped into the garage, placing the files she had been carrying on one of the worktables, and closing the distance between herself and the boom box, twisting the volume to lower it by half.

**Trust you is just one defense**

**off a list of others, you don't make sense**

"Hey, I was listening to that." Instantly, he rolled out from under the truck, dirt and smears of grease scattered along his features, curls matted to his forehead as he looked up at her.

"I didn't turn it off." She smiled at him softly, but her friendly air went unreturned.

**Beg me time and time again**

**to take you back now, but you can't win**

"Hand me a Phillipshead, will ya?" There was a feral determination in his eyes that had traveled to his jaw, set rigidly in concentration. He pushed halfway back under, one knee bent, the casual look of it pulling at her heart. She stood, retrieving the screwdriver from the toolbox, holding it out.

"Here."

**Take back now, my life you're stealing**

"Thanks." He slid back out, his gaze locked on the tool, his fingers careful to avoid contact with hers as he took it from her grasp. His intentional lack of contact startled her, and she looked around, spotting an extra wheelie and laying it down next to the truck, pushing herself under the Bronco beside him.

**Yesterday was hell**

**But today I'm fine without you**

**Run away this time without you**

And all I ever thought you'd be 

**That face is tearing holes in me**

"D'you want to talk about it?"

"No." He grunted softly, prying a piece of metal off the undercarriage, biting his lip in thought as he turned it over in his hand, shining his flashlight on it.

**but today I'm fine without you**

**Run away this time without you**

**And all the things you put me through**

**I'm holding on by letting go of you**

"C'mon, Greg."

"Leave me alone, Sara. I've only got an hour 'til the repo guys are going to come and take this." Fine. If he wanted to be business, she could do business.

"You need help?"

"No. I don't need help. I don't need you hovering over my shoulder waiting for me to screw up." The acidity of his words startled her, and she didn't respond. After a few moments he continued, the pout clearly audible. "I'm not going to screw up."

"I never said you did." She smiled, amused.

**And when that memory slips away**

**There'll be a better view from here**

"Checking up on me?"

**And only lonesome you remains**

**and just the thought of you I fear**

**it falls away**

"Nope." She turned her head to the side, watching his profile with a weary expression, listening carefully to the words bleeding from the boom box before speaking again. "Who broke your heart, Greg?"

"You did." He wouldn't look at her, but she watched him blink, the tear rolling down his face before he could stop it, trailing a path through the soot and dirt that had blackened his features. She made a move to touch his arm, but he flinched, pulling away.

**Yesterday was hell**

**But today I'm fine without you**

"Greg-"

"Can you turn the volume back up on your way out? It's cheaper than therapy, and works better." There was finality in his tone, but she made no motion to roll out.

Run away this time without you

He sighed, yanking the safety glasses from his nose, backhanding his tears. "Please." Finally, he turned his head to the side, returning her gaze, on the verge of coming apart.

**And all I ever thought you'd be**

**That face is tearing holes in me**

**but today I'm fine without you**

She didn't think, leaning over and sliding her hand in his curls, pulling his lips to her own, kissing him gently, there beneath the Bronco, shifting her weight off the roller, pulling him closer, granting him access, deepening their kiss.

**Run away this time without you**

**And all the things you put me through**

**I'm holding on by letting go of you**

He responded for only a moment, tasting her briefly before pulling back, rubbing his eyes with gentle frustration as the chords of the guitars struck for the last time, fading quickly and melting seamlessly into the next song.

"I'm sorry, Greg." It was barely a whisper, but he heard it, fighting for control over himself as she rolled out from under the Bronco, climbing off the wheelie and making her way back to the worktable, picking up her files with a shaky sigh. She kept her gaze from lingering on his sneakers, instead, reaching out to twist the volume back up before slipping out of the garage and out into the hall.

She was coming to the realization that he had broken hers, as well.

…

A/N: sorry, angsty, I know. Song is "Straitjacket Feeling," All-American Rejects, off their album Move Along, which, while it is righteously amazing, isn't half as good as their first album. Such is life. Saw them in person a few months ago… had this in my head ever since. Companion piece to "A Little Momentum," CSI:NY.


End file.
